Home from the Hunt
by lousiemcdoogle
Summary: Hunt Post Ep: His tone held a mix of jubilation and fragility, wonder and puzzlement. One Shot.


**A/N: Still flailing after Hunt. Sat down to work on something else, and this came out. Post-ep, so spoilers for the episode. Set the night they get home.**

**Disclaimer: Andrew Marlowe is a genius. This is but a pale homage to his brilliance.  
**

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"My Dad's a spy."

He said it out loud into the darkness, somehow knowing that she was still awake, curled up on her side of the bed. His tone held a mix of jubilation and fragility, wonder and puzzlement. She rolled over to face him, barely making out the steady rise and fall of his solid chest as it moved with his breathing under the covers while he stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

"He's been watching me my whole life. He had pictures of Alexis right from when she was a little girl," his voice broke a little as he struggled to get words out, husky with unshed tears. She moved a little closer to him so she could lean her head against his shoulder. He turned his head to look at her.

"I met my father, Kate," he sounded bewildered, like the broken little boy that this information revealed him to be. She propped herself up on her elbow smoothing his hair, his face with her other hand.

"He helped you save Alexis."

She spoke it as a statement, trying desperately not to fall into her usually methods of interrogation. She wouldn't push him for details. Not tonight.

"He's a good man," Castle closed his eyes, humming a little as he relaxed into her touch. She smiled, that closed-lip smile she saved just for him, all the love she felt for this dear, sweet, strong, foolish man welling up inside of her, bursting out through her tender gaze.

"Of course he's a good man. Look at his son," she leaned down to brush a kiss against his temple. He opened his eyes, looked at her as if startled.

"You think so?" his eyes were so round and so blue, even in the darkness of his bedroom.

"You seem surprised," her fingers couldn't stop touching his cheek, his hair, tracing around his ear and down to his chest, back up to his face. He swallowed, looked away, ashamed.

"My father's a spy, Beckett. Hell, you're a cop. That's- those are important. Me? I just make up stories."

She turned his face towards her almost forcefully. "No. You don't get to say that, Castle. You're a good man, a good father. A brilliant writer. You help people every day with your words. You helped me, before we even met. Helped me to keep going, to pull myself out of the darkness with your words, before we met and you did it all over again in person. Your father should be proud of you."

An awestruck smile played around his mouth as he watched her- this fierce, passionate woman who guarded those she loved as closely as she guarded her own heart. He pulled her down to him, slanted his mouth across hers in a short, hot kiss.

"He said he was," he said as he pulled away, watching her take a moment to snap out of the daze his kiss had sent her into.

"Good. Shows he's smart, too," she replied, surging back into him, taking and giving from his mouth as reassured herself once again that he was here, he was safe, he was home. Finally, the frenzy of kisses settled back into something slower, more languorous. When he finally came up for air, he looked down at her- when had that happened, exactly?- and smiled, the nine year old on a sugar rushed that she knew and loved peeking through once more.

"My Dad is a spy!" he crowed. She laughed up at him, enjoying his wonder. His smile settled into something deeper as he stared down at her, couldn't help but lean down and taste the exposed line of her throat.

"Castle!" she gasped, arching into him. He pulled away so he could look into her eyes once more, settled his frame over hers, possessive and heavy. She wouldn't have moved for the world.

"He's been there for me all this time, Kate. He told me he's proud of me. Of all the things he could have been..." he swallowed as one of her hands trailed up his arm to reach up for his face once again. How did she always know how to touch him? He turned his head to brush his lips against her palm, felt her shiver in response. She ran her hand through his hair, tugging him down to her once again, but he braced himself against her, determined to finish his thought before all he could think of was her. She noticed the change in his expression, the shift from the joy of discovery to something darker, more dangerous.

"I want you to know that you're my family now, too, Kate. What you saw me do for Alexis, I would do for you. He might be my father, he might have been watching me from a distance all this time, but you're my partner, Kate. You're the one who has truly been there for me, through everything. I love you, Kate," he bent down to kiss her once more, tasting her hot, pliant tongue against his own. She gasped as he did so, curling into him desperately, trying with her body to wipe out the darkness, to draw him into the light as he had done for her so many times.

"Just don't leave me behind again," she whispered as the parted. He brushed his mouth against her cheek, her nose.

"Never again. I told you. Never," he murmured into her skin, tasting her as he moved.

"I'm holding you to that," she replied, rolling them over so that she now straddled him. "Because I don't plan on letting you go."

He froze beneath her at her words, his eyes lighting up with hope and joy. "Really?"

She frowned down at him. "Really what?"

"You don't plan on letting me go?"

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, unsure of how to respond. The brightness in his eyes dimmed momentarily, then was replaced by a mischievous smirk as he watched her struggle to respond. She huffed, glared down at him.

"You know," he drawled, eyes sparkling in a way that told her that whatever he was about to say was purely to get a rise out of her, "It's probably a good thing that I'm a writer and have so many words, since you get tongue tied so often."

"I don't get tongue tied, I just... Dammit, Castle, I'm just no good at words for the things I feel most strongly about."

His eyes lost the tease, but none of the smile. "I know. And I know you love me, Kate. I feel it in everything you do, in all we are together. Don't feel like you have to say it, because you tell me every day, and I'm so pathetically grateful for that," he reached up and brushed her silent tears away. She bent down to kiss him inelegantly, all teeth and tongue and heart. He chuckled into her mouth, calming her with his caresses.

"I love you, too, Kate. I'm so glad I'm home," he whispered, pulling her even more tightly against him so he could show every inch of her just how glad he was. Repeatedly.


End file.
